The Last Dance
by LittleWhitetail
Summary: Snape reflects on a dance held during his fifth year, and of the chaos and heartache that accompanied it. The night he got to dance with Lily.


Rated T because of mention of alcohol and drugs, but both are really only mentioned in passing.

Hope you enjoy!

**The Last Dance**

Dancing, he hated dancing. He used to like it, but that was a long time ago. In fact, it had been so long that he had almost forgotten a time when he had liked such a thing … almost. Of course, there had really only been one person he liked to dance with anyway; she had been a good sport, not swearing when he stepped on her toes, until he got the hang of things. Lily had been a good sport about a lot of things; his intense fear of heights for one thing (though she was the only one to know, and he still denied it to anyone who accused him of such a thing). Quite like high places in fact, he hated dancing, though he did not fear it. Just a few of the memories it brought back, though it was more the pain which accompanied them, the pain of remembering what might have been.

The great hall was empty, tired students and teachers alike in bed, having thrown aside their dress robes and shoes and fancy hair clips. And yet here Severus stood, in the middle of the room, lost in the very memory in which he treasured and feared to bring back. Taking a lengthy trip down memory lane, in this particular subject, usually ended in him indulging in some firewhisky (something he very rarely did). This of course, was not good in the least, as considering of all the ways people can behave when drunk, Severus Snape almost always just _had_ to become a sobbing heap of stupidity. Why couldn't he just become unable to shut up like other intoxicated idiots? Or laugh uncontrollably, or even be a right grouch? Nope, he had to cry like a little girl every time he got drunk, which was why such occasions seldom occurred and could be counted upon one hand. Of course, his embarrassing behaviour when intoxicated probably had something to do with the reason of why he usually became so in the first place, as his reason almost always led to something involving Lily. Perhaps it was not that surprising that he should end up in such a state on each unfortunate occasion.

All of these thoughts made him wonder just why in the name of Merlin he was stirring up memories, standing in the middle of the decadently decorated hall while his mind flashed back to his fifth year, when Dumbledore had thought it a good idea to begin the tradition of having a Christmas ball. This idea was quite likely conceived when the Ministry was talking of reviving the Triwizard tournament back in Severus and Lily's school days. The idea had been scrapped of course (only to resurface years later and personally give Severus a headache with Karkaroff following him around), but Dumbledore had quite obviously thought it would be grand to have a Yule ball anyways. However, that year was the only year that it was held up until now, due to the unfortunate decision of Sirius Black's to put a certain muggle drug in the teachers' punch, which already had a few shots of liquor in it. Needless to say, it was proven that evening that LSD and alcoholic punch do not go together. Where Black got such a thing Severus never did find out, but it certainly was lucky that Dumbledore had noticed Slughorn's strange behaviour (he was _always_ the first one to dip into the punch) and figured out the problem right away. Rumour had it that Slughorn had a very good trip. Afterwards, and quite humorously, the student population had nicknamed him Lucy, and were constantly asking him if he was in a sky with diamonds like in that old song by the Beatles. Lily had been on the fence regarding this; though a Beatles fan, she wasn't entirely sure whether or not she should approve of a teacher being referred to in this manner.

Such an interesting display had done nothing to dampen their evening so long ago, well, once Slughorn had been taken away to the hospital wing and the hullabaloo had died down. For some odd reason, that night he had had the courage to ask Lily to dance, and oddly enough she said yes. He sometimes wondered still why she did, because at that point their friendship was starting to get a little shaky. Reasons thrown aside, it was the best evening of Severus' life. He often still found himself closing his eyes at night, and wishing himself to be here, in the Great Hall so long ago on the eve of Christmas, 1975, regardless of the way it had ended. Reflecting upon that night as he stood in the dark hall, still warm from bodies, he could hear the musical sound of Lily's laughter as he took her delicate hand and pulled her onto the dance floor yet again. They hadn't cared what others thought, seeing them together like that, just that one night; that one perfect moment where Severus felt like life might just be on his side for once. The dark room disappeared as he closed his eyes and he saw once more her green ones, full of light and joy, gazing up at him as couples turned around them. They had been still at that moment.

Eyes having remained closed, feet rooted to the stone and surrounded in empty silence, it was so close, that memory of so long ago. And _they_ had been so close. Her softly tinted lips, freckled nose and those eyes. He had been close enough to see the different colours in here iris, the different greens behind a dancing shine that was so very Lily. And then the ball ended, and the music stopped and the people around them left. But they stayed frozen, for a moment or two, oblivious of the knowing looks that were sweeping out of the room. So close, his dream almost a reality. Then she turned away and blushed, faltering in his powerful gaze. Sometimes Severus wondered what she would have done if he had made the first move … or if he had blinked perhaps. She had appeared to notice just then that the room was empty, and that they were the only ones left as the candles began to magically extinguish for the night, as darkness was sweeping across the floor to where they stood. Lily had looked as though she wanted to say something, her eyes, searching longingly. Then she lowered her head and ran out of the hall, leaving a shoe behind in the entranceway. There had been tears in her eyes.

Severus had remained there in that achingly empty hall, the dark finally closing over the floor, the final candle having been extinguished. He looked down to the great double doors, eyes resting on Lily's forgotten shoe, sparkling faintly in the moonlight.

His Cinderella.

But this Prince didn't get his happily ever after.

Severus might have been right there as he was now, on that exact spot for all those years, though he had really only been there a few moments for his reflection. He sighed softly, and shifted his feet. He then walked numbly down to the dungeons, and for all the ways in which the building had not changed, he could have been fifteen again, with his second hand dress robes suddenly feeling as heavy and old as his heart. He could have been fifteen, for though his body may have left to go elsewhere over the years, his mind never really did leave the Great hall that night, that moment. So he let his mind stay there, where Lily was so close, where his hand was around her waist and hers on his shoulder. Where he was ready to drift away into oblivion with her. And in many ways, since her passing, he had done so anyways.


End file.
